Walking on Sunshine
by Saffronica612
Summary: In which alternate timelines and the one thing Loki hates the most forces said God of Mischief to examine himself and draw help from the most interesting sources, namely, one by one, the Avengers. Morality, Loki evilness, Loki redemption, lots of feels, various apocalypses, and guaranteed to be not what you're expecting.
1. Chapter 1

Walking on Sunshine

* * *

Tony Stark had not slept in thirty-six hours. He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the Project, because if he though about anything other than the Project, he might just collapse, and he couldn't afford a breakdown. Not now.

The last piece was welded into place.

"Diagnostics. Run diagnostic, Ja-" His broken voice trailed off. Jarvis was gone. Erased, deleted, the backups destroyed by fierce green sparks of magic the day after Loki had decided it would be funny to unleash EMPs on the entire planet. Just as if to add insult to the injury.

"I'll start the diagnostics, Tony," filled in the appropriate gentle voice, as Bruce Banner turned and started up the hodge-podged desktop.

Bruce Banner, once the Incredible Hulk. Now poisoned with a chemical cocktail that would kill him the moment the "other guy" showed up. Hawkeye, blind. Natasha, dead. Fury, blind then dead. Thor, chained in some deep dungeon, unheard of for years. The Captain, frozen. Loki almost seemed to have a macabre sense of humor.

Gunshots ricocheted off the metal walls of their little bunker, and screams pierced the otherwise-silent air. Neither of the men flinched. It was scary how quickly they had become used to living in this dystopia. Surviving day-in and day-out. The Before and the After, with the Coronation burned into their minds as the Day Everything Went Wrong.

The day the people turned against their heroes.

The day the world started to burn.

Sometimes he wondered if Loki were right. If humans really didn't want freedom. The 99.99% of the planet who took to the serum-_glowing blue, glowing like the staff, like the portal, promising something but only bringing death, that horrible blue_-they seemed relatively happy. Not that they seemed to notice anything. The few _normal_ exceptions, and he had never been so glad to be normal, they just...lived normally. Well. While trying not to be hunted down by the King's forces. And, of course, the other 0.008% (a fairly substantial number, considering the population of earth...and how quickly they had spread...)

Well, let's just say it wouldn't be a proper post-apocalyptic world without Zombies.

Three years ago, when the Captain and Natasha had still been with them, and Hawkeye was just learning how to feel his way around blind, that was when they had passed the Point of No Return. Where enough of the population had been converted, according to Tony's estimates, at least, that humanity as a race would not survive.

Not that Loki cared. Zombies made just as good brainless soldiers as live humans did. And Tony got the feeling that he liked the chaos that ensued, especially when a particularly large horde fell upon an isolated, unprotected town...

(The reason he didn't notice the screams anymore was because they frequented his nightmares so often that they had become background noise. That, and the low, melodious chuckle, the-)

"TONY! NOW!"

Tony's head jerked up. "It's ready. It's not ready. Wait, what?" The progress bar showed coordinates only halfway loaded.

"Put the helmet on! You need to be sealed in!" Banner spoke low and soft, but the anxiety was palpable all the same. Tony nodded, and clumsily lifted his arms to seal himself into the patchwork suit. He *should* be safe from any abnormally painful and drawn-out...effects. But no one had ever attempted anything like this before, so he had no clue. Was he going to need to breathe? Or would it be...done...before that? Not that this suit was even airtight at all. Actually, if anything, this was a horribly desperate, horribly-

Wait.

Wait that was towards the door, he couldn't-

He cleared his throat. "Banner. Where are you going?"

The fellow scientist, the one person smart enough to communicate with, the one who had kept him sane through all the years turned around. "Isn't it obvious? This was the plan all along."

"But what if-"

"If you fail? There's nothing left living for here. And if you succeed, we're gone regardless."

Tony swallowed back tears. He hadn't really thought about it that way.

As if following his line of thinking, Banner cracked a grin. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not surviving, either, remember? Quite frankly, I stand by what I first said in that this is just a complicated excuse at a suicide attempt. You don't think you get to have all the fun, do you? But your programming may. Survive, I mean. And gods help us, the message must."

Tony nodded. "Yeah. Glorified R2D2 here."

"I'll buy you some time."

"I'll give it back to you."

"For all our sakes, I hope so."

Then Banner released his anger, the anger at all the hate and pain and destruction, and the frustration, and his flesh exploded into massive green muscles, the "other guy," the Hulk. And even as he felt his heart failing, he careered towards the door, ignoring it as it exploded inward, sweeping aside zombie and Loki's hit team as the blackness began to settle upon him.

There was a huge flash of light and a boom, and it felt as if some massive hand had picked him up and thrown him against a wall. Not that he could feel a wall. Or his legs. Or anything, really, other than a constant, pulsating pain.

His vision grew fuzzy. The world looked like it was dissolving. Probably _was_ dissolving. At least, he hoped it was. Then maybe they would win.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Tony Stark was dead within thirty seconds. After all, he was only a glorified battery. It was a part of the plan, all a part of the plan.

The last thing that he saw was the whirling and swirling of the walls of the vortex, the same horrible blue, blue, blue-but not blue.

He could have sworn that he saw a hint of green.

* * *

Loki sat upon the Throne. He smiled, then he frowned. He had everything. He had nothing. This was perfect, what he wanted, not enough not enough he hated them all those stupid puny-

_whoosh._

Like he had gone blind. Or rather, like a part of the world had disappeared. And for some reason, more and more of it seemed to be following.

And this was his Realm. He was its King. They were Linked, Linked in strange, inexplicable ways, so much that the Realm reflected who he Was, and having a piece ripped away felt akin to looking down and realizing his left hand was simply...gone.

He scowled, closed his eyes, and followed the anomaly with his mind.

Oh.

Not such a good idea after all, perhaps.

Then everything disappeared.

* * *

I decided to put the author's note down here, because I didn't want to spoil anything for anyone.

Title: Walking on Sunshine

Rating: T

Author: Smartkitty314

Summary: Time travel and a redemption arc. Mostly because a lot of other versions have been played out already. I'm redeeming Loki *before* he turns evil. ...GAH now I have plotbunnies for a Dr. Who crossover.

Ah well. Normal time travel for this one.

AU I suppose? Because whenever you mess with timelines, you branch off into alternate universes? I have a Whovian view of time, but a Homestuckian view of timelines, if that makes any sense to anyone, whatsoever. Also, if anyone can follow my logic enough to figure out where the title came from, then congratulations, Wayfolk, you've found my fanfiction account, and I will come up with a suitable revenge if you reveal my identity to the world, etc, etc.

Yadda yadda, I own nothing, I really shouldn't be writing this, don't have the time, but everyone else was playing with the Avengers and I wanted to have fun, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Walking on Sunshine: Chapter 2

* * *

Loki tried not to panic, tried to breathe, but the only thing present in his consciousness was blackness. And he didn't _like_ blackness. The complete lack of sensory information reminded him too much of what death was supposed to be like, not transportation to some underworld, but _death_, true _death_, with no thinking, no seeing, no feeling, no nothing, just nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, for eternity, the erasure of everything he was, everything-

He would have barfed if he had a mouth.

He would have tried to stop hyperventilating if he could breathe at all.

Something was happening. He was still thinking, so he couldn't be dead, not truly dead. He could figure it out, plan _something_, get out of here, get back to ruling, if it could even be called _ruling_, and forget this whole little incident because quite frankly, it was embarrassing to have a panic attack. As well as to be an immortal with a phobia of death. Although he was a little surprised that more of the idiots he had grown up around did not have a more heathy appreciation of how _flat-out terrifying_ the state of simply not-being, well, was.

Concentrate. He had to concentrate. There must be something else-

an image. A talking image. He brought it up to the forefront of his mind. The Man of Iron, although it was a misnomer. Gold-titanium alloy, if he had read the atomic signature correctly. Which he always did. The main component of magic was knowledge.

The image of Tony Stark was not currently armored. The mortal looked weak. Tired. Worn-down. Loki was struck by a strange feeling-it almost saddened him. Sentiment. The Avengers were the beings with whom he had interacted the most over the last decade. And they probably understood him the most, and he them the most. Understood how the arc-reactor was the only thing keeping Stark alive, how Stark had continued using the suits when he knew it would have killed him, _idiot_, how despite his categorization as "narcissist who doesn't play well with others," Stark was the only true extrovert on the team, and thus kept them glued together.

And now this talking ghost was the only thing left of him.

_Hey,_ the image said. _I'm, uh, you. Well, you from the future, woohoo! How exciting is that? Except I bring sort of bad news from the future. Because this future kind of sucks. Long story short, Loki rules the world and the zombies eat everyone else and I'm pretty sure the whole universe is in shambles, too, but that's some other bad guy's fault. Anyways, we've all talked about this problem, and we've decided that the only way to prevent this future is to kill Loki. Do you understand? No being a hero, no trying to reform him. Thor will be upset. Hell, knowing me, you'll probably be upset, because killing people really isn't that much fun. But it's Loki or the universe, okay? _

_Also, another important thing-destroy the suit. The Arc-Reactor is powering this time travel, and we didn't have the materials to make another one, so it's in my chest, but there's no way that people can actually, you know, survive time-travel. And dying isn't fun. Well, I wouldn't know, but who would ever want to know anything about the nothingness and the-just-urgh._

Loki felt a flash of kinsmanship with the mortal. Finally, someone talking sense.

_The point is, though, I wouldn't put it past Fury to try to use time-travel technology to his advantage, and that's a really bad idea, because you are worth *so* much more than just a glorified battery, even though we're using you...um, me...um, future you...as a glorified battery, but we're all going to die anyway. Actually, if we succeed, I think everyone in that timeline dies? I don't know how paradoxes work or anything. This is really just a final gambit. But you need to destroy the suit, because the only thing worse than Fury getting his hands on it and trying to use it as a weapon is Loki getting his hands on it and using it as a weapon. It's dangerous, okay? Damn dangerous._

A voice came from the side, Banner's: "_Are you done, Stark? That's all we can hold._"

Stark looked Loki-anyone who would be watching, Loki reminded himself, but that didn't stop this image, this _ghost_, from being any creepier-straight in the eye. It felt as if he were peering down into the God's soul. Not that Loki believed in souls. _Kill Loki. Stop this future. Destroy the suit, and let us live in peace. And if you're not me, and for some reason, don't care to get this message to me, then the end of the universe is on your head. And I don't care if you don't believe me, because guess what? You die too. _The sneer on Stark's face sent chills down Loki's non-existant spine. _We all die._

Then the image faded out.

Time travel. Time travel to stop himself. And his consciousness was somehow stuck inside this time travel machine? Which meant that the schematics shouldn't be too hard to figure out. He stretched out his mind. Easy. Simple. _Genius._ An alternate version of the suit. If he had known advanced Earth-science, he would have thought of quantum entanglement and the fact that anti-matter could be seen as matter traveling backwards in time and the potential for this to go wrong and form the sort of explosion that would make nukes seem like firecrackers and that time travel couldn't work unless someone on the other end was opening the wormhole so how exactly did Stark expect-oh, his first interaction with Midgard, the Tesseract, no wonder the energy felt familiar, in all synced, but still, there must have been some miscalculation because the suit-well, nothing solid, really-could ever make it through-

Then Loki laughed. He didn't care if the suit made it through. All he needed was to make it through himself. Apparently his consciousness was compatible with the mortal technology-something that he wished he had abused earlier, but hey, time travel, it seems as if he _had_ abused it earlier. He could probably conquer the Earth so much more quickly now, because he knew exactly _how._ He remembered exactly _how._ He could help his past self-

or even better, simply occupy his past self's body. He was already tired of this whole "consciousness in a tin can" gig. Gold-titanium alloy can. Whatever. With his future knowledge and power, his ability to time travel, and his own body, he'd be unstoppable.

Although, the paradox. Had Stark thought over the paradox? Because it was an extremely rare and near-unknown branch of magic, due to the fact that time travel was purely theoretical, but from what Loki had managed to get his hands on, he postulated that there were an infinite number of realities that formed and collapsed based on choice, intent, and action. Something about more quantum mechanics and a Midgardian theory of Einstein or Schrodinger or a bunch of their other "geniuses." Not that the Midgardians got very far with their funny little theories.

But if he were from an alternate future-a failed future, even-that would mean that his present? past? body would have an infinite number of possibilities for it for the future. By taking it over, he was killing the chance of his consciousness to evolve, killing all those possible futures, killing all his potential, and, for all intents and purposes, killing himself. Even though he would be taking over, he would still be killing himself.

And he knew himself, so he knew that he'd see it the same way. Struggle. Try to make it hard for himself. But he also knew that he'd have even less mercy for himself than he did for those worthless Avengers. There was no one, nothing, in the universe, that he hated more than himself.

Which means he should probably take advantage of a time when he was the weakest.

When he was younger. More innocent. More _vulnerable_ for this kind of an attack.

When he was fighting the Avengers for the first time.

* * *

A/n: Well, this has turned out a lot more dark and angsty than I thought it would be.

Also, Schrodinger Loki time, because there are two ways that this story can branch out from here, and they are existing simultaneously in my head, and until I actually write the next chapter, no one knows which one will take place. BUT, two possible futures, and, completely spoiler free, I'd like to know where on the spectrum you stand: dark and angsty versus slightly happier and potentially heartwarming and cuddly, and future!Loki or present!Loki being the protagonist that we follow. That's all. Let me know in a review, or not, because apparently it is incredibly difficult to push that little review button (you don't even need an account, silly mortal!), but that just means that you don't get a say in the matter. And what sort of author would I be if I didn't tantalize you with an illusion of life's greatest lie: freedom of choice? The feeling of influencing anything of importance?

That is, if you consider a little fictional universe like this at all _important._

Or if you actually believe your reviews have influence. But you'll never know unless you try, right?

Okay, I'mma stop being all philosophical and let you review or get on with your lives or whatever.


	3. Chapter 3

A few A/n here, instead of at the end, just because I feel like it.

#1, June (as well as August) have been declared Camp NaNoWriMo months. Which is really cool, but it means that I'm trying to work on a novel, too? A novel that is sort or dying. Le sigh. But updates might take a tad longer.

#2, this is pretty much the last chapter of the exposition? Then I get to play with Loki and the Avengers together? Ooh, that'll be fun. If the characters don't have other ideas.

So see how you like it. If everyone is in character or what-not. Panic is vaguely difficult to write. Either way, I had fun, and you ought to, too. That's the point, isn't it?

* * *

Walking on Sunshine

* * *

Loki allowed himself as small grin as he surveyed the world like a king from Stark's tower. Not that he had ever wanted to be a king, not of this puny Realm, at least. Through the glass, he could see Selvig, Thor's little pet scientist, building him his portal. Soon enough, the Avengers would arrive, dispose of the army of aliens, and Loki would be captured. He would get his free ride back to Asgard. And then, with access to Asgard's vaults, he could find himself a proper weapon, give his _true_ allies what they _truly_ wanted (some gauntlet of little consequence), and conquer any and every realm he wished.

He did so love a good Xanatos Gambit. Especially when he won. Besides, he did not like the Chitauri, nor their attitude towards him, whatsoever. Their gall, their threats. They were a disgusting race, and it would do well to destroy one enemy and weaken another, all in a single blow.

The Tesseract pulsed a brighter blue, and the lights dimmed for a moment, before the building hummed back to life. Loki pursed his lips. The Chitauri must be meddling on the other side. Impatient, arrogant meat shields. He looked forward to watching their demise.

"Thinking about how clever you are?" came a disembodied, robotic voice.

Loki raised an eye towards the ceiling of the room. "Ah, Jarvis. The local AI, the greatest achievement of this Midgardian science, their most advanced thinking machine. I was wondering when you would draw my attention."

The voice laughed, an exceedingly strange sound at that, a robotic reproduction of glee. Loki had a visceral feeling that everything was about to go wrong. And he knew that said visceral feeling was nothing more than his conscious brain needing to catch up with the signs that his subconscious brain was picking up that something...something was happening.

"So playing at not-Jarvis," he said, allowing his mad grin to slip over his face. "You do provide some amusement, but-"

"No, you don't get to talk, Silvertongue," came the voice. Loki nearly flinched at the use of his favorite nickname. The one that he had spread across the entire court, but allowed seven different people, five of them adults, to believe that they had coined the term. It was a title that reminded him of one of his first victories, how he had twisted the teasing into something he controlled, something he had _planned-_but he didn't like how it sounded in the emotionless, threatening tones emanating from the walls.

"Lips sewn shut again?" the voice cackled, and Loki froze. A cascade of thoughts tumbled through his mind. Odin had always threatened, but- he had calculated it would be the most likely punishment for this, but- his lips his tongue his words the _pain_ but pain didn't matter, he would win, win and crush them all- _but there was no way that Stark's resident AI would know._

No way that anyone would know, possibly not even Odin.

Because it _hadn't happened yet._

Then the last word hit him: again.

He swallowed. If this was what he thought he was dealing with...well. This could serve to his advantage. "How long?" he asked.

"A hair's breath. Barely ten Midgardian years. You fail, or at least, they decide to destroy Asgard. Everyone we hate dies, except, of course, us. You get Midgard as a consolation prize."

Loki shrugged. The bitterness, not evident in the robotic voice, was revealed in whatever-had-taken-over-Jarvis's diction. "You mean, you failed. I have not yet played my final hand. If you speak truth, then you will be able to give me new knowledge and power which I suspect will allow me to shape the future as I wish it. And if you are but clever programming of Mr. Stark's, then I must say, he has more of a penchant for mischief than I gave him credit for."

The voice laughed again, and Loki felt a strange, dark, _huge_ consciousness pushing in on his own. Like himself, except...more twisted. Harder for him to even make out anything. More pain, more hate, more sorrow, but flashing with a blue-green energy-magic and _time_-and pushing his own mind-

He grasped his own intentions a moment before it was too late.

His own mind would be pushed out, he would be destroyed, destroyed and dead for this future _creature_ to plunder the universe with his body, he didn't want to rule over a hell, he wanted to rule over a paradise, but all he could think of was death, death, death, and he clung to that fear and pushed back and-

Power. From the bottom of the building. He reached out and _crushed._ And the lights hummed dimmer again.

But they came back up. Came back up because-

There was a blast, an explosion outside, and Loki whirled around to see the Iron Man careening backwards in the air, and the Tesseract's blue shield fading.

Of course. His future double must be using excess power from the portal to keep the entire building alive, which would explain the lessening in pressure. Now his...was it even a doppelganger? Because he couldn't think of it as himself, not really. But it would be fighting for its own survival, if he could only destroy the power source. Midgardian technology couldn't operate without a power source.

The pressure doubled, and Loki groaned involuntarily, trying not to fall to his knees. Stark was walking towards the room. Concentrate on Stark. He couldn't appear weak.

With a rush of adrenaline-based willpower, Loki threw the _thing_ on his mind off. He managed to pull himself upright by the time Stark entered the room. "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity," he said cooly. He was willing to have his humanity appealed to. He had not felt this..._breakable_, this _mortal_, in...well...ever.

"No, actually, I'm going to threaten you."

Loki wanted to break down crying at that one. In the back of his mind, he was still fighting with the pressure, but he felt his lips move, his tongue reply, "Should have left your armor on for that."

Panic flared within him. He didn't say that. So it must have been the false him, already in his mind, already in his body, he didn't have a chance, was going to die, die, die-he could barely even grasp what Stark was saying anymore. Losing control of his own sensory perceptions, soon it would be nothingness, nothingness for eternity-

He threw all his desperate concentration into listening. Grasped for Stark's words as if they were a life-line:

"-glow stick of destiny. Would you like a drink?"

"Stalling me won't change anything." Now the voice-_coming out of his own lips, his own mouth-_was taunting him. It wouldn't change anything. He was still going to die, die, die, it was pushing him out, it was inevitable, he couldn't-

"No, no, no, threatening. No drink? You sure? I'm-"

"STOP! HELP!" Loki-the _real_ Loki, not some strange creature from the future-choked out. His eyes bulged but he was in control again. "AHHG. YOU'VE GOT TO-TO-"

"Man, are you sure you don't need a drink?"

This time, Loki _did_ fall to his knees, his staff the only thing keeping him upright at all, as his future version waged full war on him in his head. Illusions, fear, doubt, hate-he couldn't tell which anger was his own. He got the feeling that besides just hating him, future him was mildly annoyed that this was taking any effort at all. That he would have killed himself without a second thought. Which made him wonder, what had gone so wrong? To make him like this? What if it hadn't happened yet? Or, even more chillingly, what if it had?

He slid his hand up, slicing his palm across the blade of his spear. Pain welled up, deep and true and _real_, and it centered him. He gained ground on the dark thing. And his mind, his brilliant mind, _his_ brilliant mind and he was going to keep it, keep it if it was the last thing he did-came up with a plan.

"The Tesseract," he choked out. "You need to close it. Destroy it. Here, take my spear."

Tony stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"No-trick-it's killing me-GO!"

His final words startled the human into motion, and he collapsed to the floor, his eyes slipping closed, his full concentration honed on this battle for survival.

_You're mad!_ He screamed at himself. And he hated how "himself" only laughed back. He scrambled, he clung, what made him Loki, he was worth it, he was better than this-

but was it really worth it?

His fear of death was the only thing that had kept him from wanting to die for centuries upon centuries. But wouldn't it just be easier to let him take over? It wouldn't really be dying, not really, because he had all the same memories. If anything, he had a greater right to live-

_Not all the same memories,_ the real Loki shot back and those false, lying thoughts. _You don't remember this. The fear. The pain. By Odin, I swear, I will destroy you for making me appear weak. I will strip you of your power and destroy you._

Only laughter.

_Now GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

A blue explosion. He could see it through his eyelids. Stark must have destroyed the portal, shut down the Tesseract. He waited, flinching, and-

Nothing.

The building was quiet.

Was the pressure gone? He couldn't tell. Was he still in his own head? He felt shocked, half-dead, completely mad, thoroughly...shaken, but no...different. He unclenched his mental defenses, and no attack came rushing. But the other Loki. The future Loki. What if it was still there?

And then a gut-wrenching thought hit him.

It could be anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. Travel anywhere, do anything, and it was going to try time and time again until it killed him and destroyed his universe.

He had hated himself before, but he had never genuinely _feared_ himself.

He was going to die. He was a plaything, alive only because the other Loki found it funny, and when he had worn out his own amusement, he would be crushed with as little regard as a boot gives an ant.

He was going to die.

He was going to _die._

He had almost just _died._

He was going to _die_ and there was _nothing he could do._

* * *

So much to Tony Stark's surprise, as the man ran back into the room, still unarmored, and clutching Loki's spear, the site that greeted him was not the God of Mischief laughing, or some other elaborate prank, but rather, said God curled into a fetal position on the floor, body wracked with silent sobs.

Stark wasn't quite sure how to react to that one.

He grabbed a radio.

Still not quite sure he believed what he was seeing, he pressed down, opening the intercom. "Um, guys, a little bit of trouble."

Natasha's voice replied in an instant. _What? We saw a flash of blue light. Is the portal open?_

Tony swallowed.

_Come on, Stark. What is the situation?_

"Portal is closed. Alien invasion stopped. But I think there might be something worse."

_What?_

"You've got to come and see for yourselves."


	4. Chapter 4

Walking on Sunshine

* * *

The God of Mischief was sitting on his couch, shaking like a leaf. It was a thoroughly disconcerting experience. Clint, Natasha, and Banner all had their eyes completely fixed on him. Tony was pacing back and forth across the room, unsure as for whether to pour himself another drink or not. Thor had situated himself next to his brother, and had even placed a tentative arm around his shoulder. And Loki didn't seem to notice.

Something was very, very, _very_ wrong.

Considering that the God of Mischief did not appear particularly cooperative (not that he was cooperative when he wasn't doing the whole in-shock thing), Tony Stark would have to figure it out himself.

Everyone in the room seemed focused enough as it was, so Tony decided that they wouldn't miss him. He could take a look around their only other clue, the portal that Selvig had built, although Fury had confiscated the Tesseract hours ago. A team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were currently buzzing all over it, and Tony knew that it was illogical, but he couldn't shake the idea that maybe he could find some clue that they had missed. He was a technological genius, he reminded himself. And he was the only one who had done his homework on reading up how the portals worked. Better than trying to figure out how Loki's _head_ worked.

The agents had thoroughly cataloged everything, and were packing up the actual portal machinery into some sort of helicopter. Fury was standing with his hands behind his back, overseeing. Tony cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Ah, Stark. Any updates on our situation?"

"I was wondering if you found anything interesting," he said. "Also, I just can't really stand being inside. I'm trying to decide whether this is all some stress-and-booze-induced dream, actually."

Fury didn't honor that one with a reply, so instead, Tony wandered over to the edge of the building and glanced down. Maybe there was something on the ground that S.H.I.E.L.D. had missed? The portal had sort of exploded. Kind of. Before it closed. Maybe? He didn't really deal with magic a lot, so he wasn't sure whether or not it was supposed to explode. Maybe that was just how portals normally closed.

With the portal's dead casings packed, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents back in their helicopter, Fury gave the whole rooftop one more glance-over, then made as if to leave himself. Tony realized that his chance was disappearing. "Wait!" he called.

Fury paused.

"Could you give me a ride down? Please?"

Fury raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want to have to go back in. Past, you know, all of them."

Fury still looked skeptical, but shrugged, and motioned that Stark could join him. "It is a bit disconcerting," he said finally.

Tony just nodded. "We'll all be glad when this gets back to normal. Yeah, um, just put me on the ground," he ordered the pilot.

"Requisitioning my helicopter without another 'please?'" Fury asked.

"I'm not even going to make a joke about it being Stark tech. And besides, I _did_ just stop an alien invasion. I think. You'd be doing a lot more cleanup and rebuilding if they had gotten through the portal."

"We are going to have to debrief you eventually."

"Really? Because I've always been more of a boxers guy." He couldn't help it. Irreverent jokes helped him blow off steam. "Alright, yup, this if my stop." He hopped off the helicopter and onto the ground. "Oh, and Fury?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

Fury nodded, in a way that implied that he understood, then the helicopter lifted off to go to whatever secret lair-or rather, _headquarters_, as "lair" sounded too villainous-that S.H.I.E.L.D. kept all their experimental technology. Actually, Tony had been meaning to investigate, ever since Loki let it slip that S.H.I.E.L.D. was building weapons. But it could wait. One problem at a time, he reminded himself.

* * *

It took him a full three circles around the building, in which he was almost starting to feel guilty for avoiding the elephant, or rather God of Mischief, waiting upstairs in the room, when a glint of light reflecting off of metal caught his eye. Closer examination revealed that there was a burnt hole on the top of the bush, which might indicate that he found something worthwhile. He moved in closer for a better view. It almost looked like...no, the leaves were in the way, it couldn't be...

He crouched down, and picked it up. Yup, he was right, it was a small Arc Reactor, nigh-identical to the one in his chest, although it did seem a little worse for wear. And was that a computer chip plugged in to the back of it? He flipped it over, trying to wipe away the black burn marks on the side while he was at it. As his finger slipped over the silicon chip, a familiar voice-his own, although, from the sound of it, rather strained, and far too sober-crackled into his ear.

_future...Loki...zombies... kill...Loki...hero...reform... upset...killing...fun...universe...destroy...suit...Arc-Reactor... didn't have...make another... in my chest...there's no way...survive..dying isn't fun. _Then there was a huge burst of static, and the Arc Reactor began sparking. Tony quickly dropped it and stepped back, and a good thing he did, because the entire thing fizzed then the silicon chip popped like some sort of sorry pice of Jiffy corn. Then the entire Arc Reactor flickered and Tony prepared to run, but before he could move, it just whirled dim, flashed once, sparked blue (like the Tesseract, his brain provided) and perhaps a tidbit green (like Loki. Although it was hard to tell. He was rather biased, considering that he was trying to investigate Loki) and darkened. He waited for three minutes, but there was nothing, nothing at all. It was completely dead.

"No explosion? That's a bit anticlimatic," he muttered. "Not with a bang but a whimper." Inside, his mind was whirling, though. He had drained quite a few of his early Arc Reactors in battle, but never the one with the new core, and never...permanently. It was supposed to be an _infinite_ source of renewable energy, and the sums that were required to drain it quickly enough that it would not be able to continue its reaction were simply too large to exist. Period. Also, considering that the one in his chest had the only piece of his Dad's element in existence, what could it possibly be doing on the ground as well?

Stark decided that the Reactor was too much of a mystery for this early in the day, and tried to piece together the words into a coherent message instead, but found that they were just as infuriatingly confusing. Loki created zombies? Or tried to stop them? Zombies killed Loki, who reformed and became a hero? Or Loki destroyed the suit? Or Loki stopped zombies from destroying the suit? Did this mean that everything was another plan, or was Loki genuinely scared because he had made zombies or something and now they were coming to get him? Either way, Loki seemed to be at the center of this mystery, and it wouldn't do to put off talking to him any longer. He pocketed the dead Reactor, then ran back towards the door, wishing that he had flown down so that he could simply fly back up.

"Jarvis? Elevator, please," he said, then remembered something Fury had mentioned hours ago when S.H.I.E.L.D. first showed up to 'contain the situation' about the entire Arc Reactor-the big one, in the basement, powering the whole building-skimping on its 'powering' duties due to the unfortunate fact of it being crushed. Which meant that Jarvis-and even worse, the _elevators_-would be offline.

He opened his mouth to call Jarvis about his suit before he realized that that wouldn't work, either.

Then with a long-suffering sigh, he turned towards the stairs.

* * *

When he reached the top fifteen minutes later (he kept a backup generator for his personal penthouse, because he didn't want to disturb the rest of the building with experiments in his workshop, and besides, Pepper had insisted- regardless, after seven flights of stairs he hacked into the mainframe using his cell phone and rerouted some power to an elevator. From there it had been a lot easier to get himself to the top) he found everyone in nearly the same position. He sighed, trying to think of the most diplomatic way to pose his question, then decided that he didn't care.

"Hey. Loki. Do zombies ring any bells? Something about the future and a zombie apocalypse? Were you planning that? Because seriously, zombies are going to go out of fashion in six months and then anyone who mentions the Mayans will be looked at as if they're completely insane. So you're going to have to be quick about that plot."

The God of Mischief glanced up at that one. Just a quick flick of his eyes, but enough for Stark to know that maybe there was a connection to something.

"Also, is there something about my Arc Reactors that personally affront you or something?" He dropped the dead one he found on the ground on the small coffee table in front of the couch. "Because this would be the second one that you destroyed today. And let me tell you, the stairs are _not_ fun."

Loki's eyes flicked up again. "You," he breathed.

"Hello. Yes. Tony Stark. Iron Man. Nice to meet you. Have you ever been formally introduced?" Tony paused awkwardly. "Could you stop staring at my chest that way? You're starting to-"

Then Loki was suddenly on top of him, screaming about stopping it and the Arc Reactor and it being all his fault and there was a sharp pain in his abdomen and all of his teammates were screaming too and his last thought before the merciful blackness of unconsciousness took him was _what idiot decided to leave the God of Mischief fully armed and sitting on my couch?_

* * *

A/N: So, I am absolutely honored by all of the intelligent reviews. Seriously, you peoples are the most interesting reviewers to read.

Also, I am going to use this along with other things that I'm writing all together in my Camp NaNo, which means that I can devote thousands of words a day without feeling horribly guilty about not keeping up with my wordcount. So the good news is, I've figured out a way to excuse spending a lot more time writing this that I was probably already going to spend writing this. Let's see, what else...I've been really interested hearing what everyone has to say about my tone. I'm getting to the point in my career of reading and writing that my own style is sort of starting to develop, but I'm far more analytical than I am confident, which is a dangerous combination. Sometimes my writing feels far to bleak for me. But adverbs are horrible. And I'm writing from character's heads and _they're_ supposed to be bleak. Then I hate to-be verbs. I flinch every time I see a contraction (although those two are only because I'm still in school/formal-essay-mode). I feel like there are holes throughout my plot because I haven't quite figured out how they are to close yet, and everything gives off this...this _vibe_ of being black and white. Not to say that stories without color can't be fun, too! Actually, this chapter adds some red and gold. Just a tad. Maybe it'll be an interesting picture when it's finished, I dunno. But the POINT is, I definitely appreciate everything you've been saying, because it's helped me keep my thoughts straight, and vaguely figure out what's working and maybe what isn't in my writing. I'm _trying_ to say Thank You. Although maybe I should use the word "I" a tad less...

Another random note, there is a character in a certain webcomic who "shows his affection" by stabbing people, which is simply the way that everyone around him who is vaguely fond of him reasons away the fact that he simply stabs everyone, and stabs them all the time. And now rereading the last scene I sort of can't get that out of my head.


	5. Chapter 5

Walking on Sunshine

* * *

Tony Stark woke up to a deep ache in his stomach. He ignored it, pushed himself up, then instantly regretted it as he began to dry heave. Five minutes later, the gray pail that someone (probably Pepper) had so courteously placed by his bedside was coated with a thin lining green fluid and his stomach hurt even more for the effort. "Jarvis, my medical files," he called out.

A few moments-horribly long moments-later, a medical screen floated into his field of vision. It wasn't a holagram. It was an actual screen. That was wrong. Something was wrong. He squinted.

"No major organs," came a familiar voice, "but cut stomach muscles always hurt. And all of your friends left their 'get-well' messages with me. Barton was particularly insistent to tell you not to hiccup."

Stark raised an eyebrow. "And you got put on babysitting duty, despite the fact that you stabbed me."

Loki shrugged. "Apparently I do a remarkably good...what do you mortals call it? Puppy dog face? I do wish to apologize, though. After much debate, they allowed me that boon."

Tony sighed. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"The Chitauri were mind-controlling me, same as I did with your archer. Except I am a god, and one well-versed in the sorcerous arts, so I was able to break free. A rather embarrassing process which you had to witness, and, luckily, I suppose, could assist me in."

"And you're the kind of guy who says 'Thank you' by stabbing someone?"

Loki cast his eyes down, a perfect picture of remorse. "Barton would explain better than me. It's weird, coming back into your own head. Everything is...strange...and overly sensitized...and you have to get used to the entire world. And just when I got ahold of myself, enough to possibly stand on my own..." His gaze flicked to Stark's chest. "It's the same blue," he said softly.

Inside, Tony Stark's mind was whirling. Because everything that Loki said was a perfectly believable story. A story that his mind _wanted_ to accept. He already felt the Liesmith's words eating away at his prior crackpot theories, the puzzle pieces that he was putting together in the back of his head before all this, but surely they couldn't be real. Loki's reasoning was so much more _rational._

Tony groaned. His head hurt. It was too early in the morning for this. "You're lying," he said flatly.

Instantly, Loki's eyes went hard and cold. _Guy who stabbed you,_ Tony reminded himself. _You're playing a dangerous game here._ Out loud, though, he said, "The team didn't leave you here with me."

Loki laughed. "No, I suppose not. I teleported myself in. Like I said, I wanted to apologize."

"Lying again, Reindeer Games. You've been eying my arc-reactor since I woke up."

Loki pursed his lips. "I was...curious. You mortals have a theory of...of facing down your worst fears, so that they are no longer your worst fears. I...I was wondering if I might...the blue...it's...exactly the same...and if I might, well, touch it. To...to prove to myself that no one can ever take over my head again."

For some reason, the words _'glorified battery'_ popped into Tony's head. He had a feeling in his gut- his poor, sliced-up gut- that letting this Loki touch his Arc-Reactor would be a Very Bad Idea. "Listen, uh, Loki, facing your fears is good and all, but I'm one of those idiot mortals who prefers denial and drinking. And I'm facing a bit of trauma from being stabbed. So, um, if you wouldn't mind, if you could keep your hands as far away from my chest as possible-"

Loki's face curled into an inhuman snarl, and he lunged forward. Just as Tony was scrunching his eyes shut and wishing he were dead because apparently the natural reaction to a God lunging at your chest to rip the battery powering your heart out is to clench your stomach, which really _hurts_ when your stomach has just been sewn together, Pepper burst in through the door. And Loki disappeared.

"Ah! Pepper! Fantastic! You left my phone here, no? Turn if off, turn it off, turn if off!" he ordered.

Pepper shot him a strange look, but closed the door and followed his instructions. "Yours too, for good measure," he said. "Actually, any piece of equipment at all hooked up to a computer in this room. Actually, just everything. The lights, too. We don't need light for this. Are we in a S.H.I.E.D. facility? This looks like a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, doesn't it?"

The room darkened. "That's everything, I think," Pepper said. Tony could practically _hear_ her biting her lip. "Tony, what's going on?"

"Come a tad bit closer," he said.

"I-"

He snatched her wrist. "Alright, normal pulse, as far as I can tell, it's you. We've got a situation on our hands with Loki, and I need someone who can walk around and keep a cool head without barfing." Then he yanked her down because the room was probably still bugged and began to whisper quickly in her ear.

* * *

Loki was currently pacing around in a pitch-black room, surrounded by tons and tons of concrete, lined with lead, with no electronics, no power sources, no water, no power lines, nothing _crystaline_- nothing that could in any possible way store data- anywhere near him. He still didn't feel safe. He doubted that S.H.I.E.L.D. felt particularly safe, either, but he threw a hissy fit until they locked him in the basement. Now he was alone to pace in his cage. He wasn't happy, to say the least. Because he knew that even with all the precautions he had wheedled his way into- completely alone, nothing that any version of him could reach, that no form of wireless wave could reach- he still knew that it was a false sense of security. That he was just hiding, and that _he_ could reach him anytime, any place. That there was nowhere he could run, because he couldn't run from himself.

"Excuse me? Mr. Laufeyson?" came a fairly nervous female voice from the doorway.

Loki whirled around, glaring, then realized his glare would be lost on the mortal because she couldn't see in the dark. He lit the room with a wave of his hand.

It was Stark's assistant. She looked calm and composed, with her hands clasped in front of her. Loki made to open his mouth, but she cut him off. "No electronics whatsoever. Tony warned me."

In the back of his mind, he filed it away. _Tony. _So Stark and his secretary-mortal were on first-name basis. He wondered if it were a Midgardian thing, to attach oneself to someone even weaker and more pathetic, and thus create an even greater weakness for themselves than their own sentimentality and mortality. His once-brother did the same, but then again, Thor had always been stupid and sentimental and _unfit_.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"I would prefer it if you calmed down a bit so that we could have a proper talk. Ultimately, though, Mr. Stark would like to make an appoi-old habits, sorry, would like to _see_ you."

Loki scrutinized her for an uncomfortably long moment. She was definitely far more nervous than she let on. Reverting to 'old habits,' familiar boundaries, a clear sign of how she wasn't enjoying this one bit. Furthermore, she was a normal mortal. Weak. So why would they send her? She met his gaze unblinkingly, though. "Why are you here?" he said.

"Tony sent me." She didn't even pause for a minute.

"And you're still running errands for him?"

"I do everything and anything Mr. Stark requires. Besides, somebody with a _clear mind_ needed to come and deal with you."

Oh, that was good. The subtle emphasis. "So Mr. Stark believes that he has a grasp on the situation," Loki said.

"Mr. Stark knows the situation is out of control. All of the Avengers together could barely handle one of you."

There it was. So Stark had definitely guessed. "Who else knows?" he asked before he could stop himself. Conflicting feelings roiled up within him-on the one hand, just the idea of all the Avengers around him, protecting him, gave him a warm rush of relief, but he reminded himself that the warmth was a lie, that they couldn't know, couldn't see his weakness.

"No one," Pepper said. "Tony said to tell you that he was willing to keep this as personal as he needed, at least until he could better gauge your reaction. He also said that you probably wouldn't trust his motivations at all, so to tell you that the only way the other version can travel is through a power-source like the Arc-Reactor in his chest."

"So not only is he acting in self-preservation, and presenting a motivation that I can understand, but furthermore, he is presenting the situation as if he is in as much danger as I am, creating a feeling of camaraderie that a potential bond could spring from," Loki breathed.

Pepper took a halting step forward, and raised a hand, placing it on his shoulder. Loki flinched and glared at it as if it were about to burst into flames, but made no move to brush her off. Drawing confidence from that, Pepper pressed on in a stronger voice, "You know, not everything is a plot to manipulate you."

Then Loki shrugged her hand off and turned aside, breaking the moment. "Still won't get me to come out of this room, though. It's not safe up there."

"The...the other version can't hurt you physically, right? Only can get into your head?" Pepper asked. Loki glared at her, but didn't kill her, which she took as a signal to keep going. "So you need to protect your mind, not sulk in the basement."

Loki bit the inside of his cheek to stop from making a snarky remark about not really sulking. "You believe that I have not thought of this, mortal? I could ward my own head with spells and a thousand passwords, but _I _could-"

"I'll tell you the password."

"What?"

"You could think of your own password. Fine. So I'll choose the password for you."

Loki cocked his head to the side. "And why would I let you do this?"

"Because you have the ability to erase my memory of the password afterwards. You could even ward my own mind using the same password. So my head is safe from everyone, and your head is safe with something that the other Loki won't just be able to guess."

"So what's the catch?"

"I don't know. I have no doubt that you'll find one eventually, but it is a temporary solution that will get you to Mr. Stark's bedside."

"So what's the catch?" Loki repeated.

Pepper sighed. "I would like it if you would refrain from stabbing my employer again. And it would make it easier for all of us if you would play nice with the other Avengers."

"So you're going to make me talk to my brother? Apologize to Barton? Make friends with them all?" The contempt in his voice would have made the Warriors Three run. Anyone who knew him knew not to push him when he-

"You deny any blood with Thor, then call him your brother. Yes, I think it would do you both some good to sit down and discuss your issues. And I would think that you would be jumping at the opportunity to speak with Clint. He is person who can best understand what you're going through, because he's been through the closest thing himself. Really, you're- being rather illogical here." Loki curled his fingers, ready to strangle something. He had the feeling that she had just barely edited herself from saying 'throwing a tantrum.' It didn't help that everything she said was _true._

"I could just kill you," he said.

"Yes, you could, and quite frankly, I'm terrified. But it wouldn't really help you at all, and it would turn the one person who knows what is going on and is actually offering you assistance against you."

There was silence for a beat. Loki could almost _hear_ the wheels in Pepper's head turning.

"Tony needs you."

"What?"

"Tony needs you and I need you because I'm _worried_ about him and I _love_ him. And this thing is going to keep coming after him, and keep coming after you, unless we stop it or it gets what it wants which means he'll _die_, so I much prefer the version where we stop it so really, we need your help if we have any chance. Please." Her voice caught in her throat, almost as if she were holding back tears.

_Needed_ him. The magic words. The mortal wasn't quite kneeling, but the sentiment was the same.

"The password," he said stiffly.

And Pepper cracked a smile and whispered a few words and a string of digits into Loki's ear.

* * *

Tony had fallen asleep, which meant that he had the privilege of being woken for a _second_ time by the God of Mischief sitting at his bedside. "What do you want?" he groaned.

"I'm sorry?" Loki said.

"Other you was more convincing."

"To_ny_!" Pepper scolded.

"I wasn't-" Then Pepper turned her glare on him, and to Tony's surprise, Loki fell completely silent.

"Pepper, you are a genius," Tony said, still struggling to push his overly-heavy eyelids open.

"She's also a liar," Loki said shortly. "She said that you wanted to speak to me."

"I do. Just...I'm a poor recovering patient and I-"

Loki waved his hand and a horrible burning, itching sensation crawled up Tony's stomach. He nearly jumped out of bed. Then he realized that he _could_ jump out of bed. "There. All healed," Loki said. "Now, you were saying, mortal?"

Tony looked him straight in the eye. "You're not going to like this."

"I don't like anything about this."

"I want to start experimenting on your magic and figuring out what it is right away. I'd prefer it if I could have Banner to help me."

"That's-"

"That's just the beginning. If we're really going to take down this alternate version of you, we're going to need to know how you think, and what your weaknesses are."

"Unacceptable. Build me a weapon and arm me with it."

"And let you turn on us afterwards?"

"Better than giving you the keys to my own destruction!"

"But that's the whole _point_ of this! Your destruction! And you're the one by my bedside because the other you didn't _ask nicely_!"

"Boys, can we _stop fighting?_" Pepper said shrilly. "Tony, you're not the one with the biggest ego in the room. It would be nice if you could be a bit more polite. You might actually make a friend that way. Loki, I think it would make everyone feel better if you officially declared yourself at peace with Earth until you've dealt with...yourself. We are just trying to help you here."

"I'm _being_ friendly," Loki whined just as Tony opened his mouth to say the same thing. Tony closed his mouth quickly, glad that he wouldn't be the one to get this scolding.

"No, you're being _rude_," Pepper said. "If you can't work together then-then that Loki wins!"

Tony sat in stunned silence, waiting for Loki to blast Pepper down or something, but for some strange reason, the Tricker burst into laughter.

"Um..."

"Did...did you give the same...pep-talk...to the Avengers...before you came to...to try to...stop me?" Loki got out between giggles. He was currently experiencing the most amusing sense of deja vu, and was past the stage of trying to pretend that he was at all in control of his emotions in this roller-coaster of a horrible day.

"Hah. Hah. Hahahahaha, actually, ha, uh, Fury gave us, hahaha, pretty much, ha, the exact same, ha, spiel," Tony said. "Hahaha. Welcome to the team."

And Loki couldn't help but feel a warmth blossoming in his chest. Relief, perhaps. For protection. For not having to face his worst fears and greatest demons alone.

And besides, he could always crush the Avengers when he was done with himself.

* * *

A/N: Hello, again, everyone! Not to be annoying or anything, because I know but it is one of my favorite parts of the chapter to get to ramble a tad and point out random bits of trivia. Like you would be surprised how many muscles are connected to stomach muscles, and how much it hurts to bind those back together. And I was surprised at how much fun I had playing with different characters interacting. I feel like a lot of the somewhat-minor characters like Pepper are brushed aside or sloppily characterized in a lot of fics, used as extensions of whatever hero they "belong" to or as annoying obstacles or are just plain old forgotten. So I'm going to be me and instead get into everyone's heads, because it's fun!

Um, actually, there's not too much to say. You guys all do me great honor with your reviews. This story is really starting to get into swing, and now that the characters (_all_ the characters) can be explored a tad bit more, not only am I having a crazy amount of fun, but it seems to be sustaining itself pretty well. Actually, I look forward to exploring every single one of them and all of their relationships and how they deal with various things, namely Loki, in a fairly thorough and well thought-out manner. Because what can I say, I love tracing characters and their dynamics!

Still not sure if there's going to be a pairing or not. Right now, it's sort of leaning towards the no romance at all side, because it doesn't really match the tone and characters that I've already set up. Calmena did mention a partiality to the FrostIron pairing, and as Xbakiyalo well knows, I don't really know where this story is going but am sort of letting the characters decide and what-not, so there's no guarantee that anything will happen. However, one could observe that reviews do _somewhat_ affect me as quite a few of you requested present!Loki and present!Loki it is. However, I could also always argue that this has more to do with the fact that you are extremely smart and picked the option that I had already picked rather than you had true influence...ah, freedom, choice, life's greatest little lie. (Nope, nope, not going to start on that, because I like to rant on for hours about deep philosophical questions.) ANYWAYS, if you do have any strong opinions on pairings, pairing you want to see, pairings you don't want to see, no pairings at all, whether you like what I'm doing, whether you want to see more of something, whether you want to see less of something, what my strong points are, what me weak points are, anything that would make me a better writer, you just want to say hi, anything-then review. No promises as to whether I'll follow your advice, but you can be guaranteed that I'll listen.

Thanks for reading, and till the next chapter!

~kitty


	6. Chapter 6

Walking on Sunshine

* * *

The first person whom Tony had _meant_ to tell was Bruce. The first person that he _actually_ ended up telling was Natasha, by way of running into her in the hallway on his way to find Bruce. "What are you doing out of bed," she asked, and Tony's mind went on snark autopilot as the words just tumbled through:

"Obviously, I'm on a secret mission for Loki because a guy can't walk down the hall without having ulterior motives in this place? If you must know, the hospital food just wasn't cutting it, and they _refused_ to let me get a drink, so I broke out. And I wanted to thank Barton for the hiccup advice. Oh, and also to round up some minions for my plan to break Loki out of this place."

"Surprisingly enough, Stark, I believe every word of that."

Tony froze.

"So what are you doing for Loki?"

He gave her his best condescending smirk. "Has anyone ever taught you the meaning of sarcasm?"

"I picked that one up myself. They did teach my how to read body language, though. Right now you're stomach is saying 'someone magically healed me' pretty damn loudly."

Tony swore. Natasha smiled. "So what are you doing for Loki?"

"It's...complicated? And I've got good reasons?"

"I know. That's why you're explaining it to me, and you're not dead." She tapped her foot impatiently. Tony got the feeling that it wasn't because she had a nervous habit of tapping her foot or anything; no, she was doing it for his benefit, to tell him to _hurry up and spill the beans._ It was certainly working in making him nervous, setting him off-balance, although that might have been the aftereffects of stomach trauma and alien magic and- "Come on, Stark, explain yourself," she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You wouldn't believe me," Tony whined, desperate for some way out of this.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

"Loki was acting so crazy back in my tower because some alternate version of him from the future teleported through the Tesseract and I'm pretty sure took over all my computers in that building and tried to push him out of his own mind. Normally, I'd say he had it coming, except-"

"You kept all your files on your computers," Natasha breathed.

"Oh." Tony could only really gape. He hadn't even bothered to think of that.

All the files that he had hacked from S.H.I.E.L.D. All the files with information on the Avengers. All the files with blueprints for his suits, blueprints for his Arc-Reactor, blueprints about Phase Two, about potential supervillains, about the Tesseract-

"And I'm guessing that this other version of Loki is even less reformable, meaning that you've decided that our Loki is the best target for redemption."

Tony's turn to raise an eyebrow. He had guessed that Natasha would see the strategic side of things, maybe, if it were broken to her in the right manner. Team up with Loki and learn his weaknesses. Alternate Loki would be a greater threat. Enemy of my enemy sentiment. But for her to leap straight to wanting to be all buddy-buddy? With _Loki_? He sighed. Women. He would never understand. "One more thing, Natasha," he said. "Because you're starting to look worried. The other version of Loki does need a power source to do anything...serious."

"The Tesseract?" she asked. "Thor's in Asgard returning it right now. Odin can keep it safe, and it'll give the Asgardians a new way between Realms until they rebuild the Bifrost."

"Really, I was thinking more about the power source _in my chest._"

Natasha's gaze flicked down. "Oh. In that case, I'm definitely coming with you when you bust out Loki."

Tony shrugged. He had given up on trying to figure her out a long time ago. "He's in the room with Pepper."

Natasha nodded. "Bruce was hanging out around the basement, in case he had to turn big and green to stop Loki again. But he might have joined the others for breakfast. I'm guessing you were planning on disappearing without telling us? It's what I would have done."

"Yeah. Thanks. I'll just go collect big green minion now," he said. Surely that wasn't guilt that was beginning to pool in his stomach, hot and sticky and far too heavy? He couldn't tell the others. Even Bruce and Natasha would be a gamble. All of this was probably the stupidest decision he had ever made, and he had no right to drag any of them into it. And he was protecting them. So this really _wasn't_ a betrayal, not at all, and since when did he care about betraying their little collection of freak-jobs? Thor was gone, Barton still hated Loki's guts, Steve still hated _Tony's_ guts, and he was _going_ to tell Bruce, the one person that he actually kind of sympathized with. So really, he was doing nothing wrong. Really.

Despite how uncomfortable he felt, walking down the hallway with her gaze boring holes into his back, it would be nice to have at least Natasha on their side. Probably. _Watch it, Stark_, he reminded himself. _One week together and now you're suddenly longing to be on a team?_

He sighed. His _life._ When had it gotten this complicated?

* * *

Bruce rubbed his eyes. There had been no motion from the basement, and the rudimentary alarm that S.H.I.E.L.D. had set up along the edges had yet to go off, but that didn't mean he trusted the Tricker God to do as he was told.

"Coffee?"

He glanced up. "Thank you, Clint. That would be really nice." He took the mug, cradling it, letting the warmth percolate through his hands and he inhaled the smoke.

"S'best hot. The S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff isn't that good."

"Thanks." He took a sip, wincing as it burned his tongue, but at least he couldn't much taste it. Not that he was sure if he could taste anything. Flashes of memory were starting to come back to him. Hurtling through the sky. Natasha crying. His rational mind told him that he was probably gaining control over the _other guy_, and the memories on the edges would return first. But it took all his willpower to keep his hands from trembling.

_Loki did this_, he reminded himself. _All of it is Loki's fault._

And the familiar heat of anger curled in his gut again. He let it steady him.

"We came to help you watch," came a new voice from the doorway. Banner turned to see the Captain with his own mug, with the red, white, and blue color scheme and all.

"Plenty of room," Bruce said, tapping the bench next to him, and Steve joined them.

All wrapped in their own thoughts. All contemplating why they had been reduced to guard duty, maybe. Or perhaps the guilt that drove them to this elevated babysitting. He wondered how many he had killed this time as the _big guy._ He wondered if the only reason he wasn't in a cage was because Loki was an easier target. Because Loki _acted_ malevolent and psychotic.

Clint would have his own scores to settle with Loki, Bruce reckoned. And Steve was there because Steve was just perfect. Bruce knew all about the "original" superhero; he had grown up with the stories, let them fuel his research, let the quest for the impossible transform him into some kind of monster. But what he hadn't realized was that Steve was the _only_ superhero. The only _actual_ hero. The only one who was pure and good to the core. He had been a fool to think that he'd get to play the part, be one of the "team."

He didn't trust S.H.I.E.L.D. any more than he trusted Loki. So he would sit there, calmly fuming, until one of them made a move.

Steve raised his cup. "Hey, to the Avengers."

"The Avengers," Bruce and Clint echoed, then all three took a swig of that truly disgusting liquid.

There was a sort of a camaraderie in staying up far too late and consuming nasty beverages together. It wasn't quite saving the world, but they had taken him back after he had destroyed their precious air base. Maybe he _would_ be able to belong.

So he let himself rage at anyone who might try to take that away from him.

* * *

"Hey, to the Avengers."

"The Avengers."

It took Tony all but a glance at them to realize that he would never be able even to ask Banner to speak with him alone.

* * *

Loki started pacing again the moment that Tony left the room. He _hated_ feeling trapped. He _hated_ feeling caged. He _hated_ the fact that something was out of his control.

"Hey, penny for your thoughts," the insignificant mortal entreated.

He let out a harsh, braying sound, what passed for a laugh in his current mood. "You would value my mind so little?"

"Pennies are worth more than you'd think," Pepper said. "You know, we lose billions of dollars a year still making pennies. They used to be pure copper, centuries ago. Now they're barely two and a half percent copper. They're small, and get dirty easy, and are annoying, and most people ignore them."

"And you would barter with me, one for my thoughts?"

"Oh, come on." She offered him a smile. "You're a genius. So you tell me why pennies are special."

He wondered if this was how she dealt with Tony: by posing asinine questions that-

"They're still around," he breathed.

"Hm?"

"They're still around. Your pennies are less than worthless and a shadow of what they once were. But they still exist. Why?"

Pepper's grin widened. "Because people wouldn't give up on them. They wouldn't just let them die. They represent our history, and a lot of us, even though we don't _like_ them, well, we really don't _like_ the idea of them _dead._"

Loki eyes fixed over her shoulder for a moment, then a slow smile unfolded across his face as well. "You Midgardians have many expressions regarding your pennies. You also speak of things showing up like a bad penny."

She shrugged. "Well, we can't get rid of them. There's also the ditty 'See a penny, pick it up, then all day you'll have good luck.'"

He whirled. "Pennies are not going to _help you_. Pennies are not going to _work for you._ And they are a story of how your _useless human sentiment_ is wasting precious money and resources. You're all _idiots_ for keeping them around."

Pepper smiled sadly. "Sometimes people need people to be idiots to learn."

Loki opened his mouth as if to respond, then snapped it shut. She didn't deserve to hear his thoughts. They were going for a far higher price than a penny.

* * *

Natasha hung silently in the shadows, watching Loki and Pepper banter.

She wasn't that different than Loki. The way that the god _lied_, acted, used his emotions to conceal his scheming, she did the same thing, and she knew it. Only she got the feeling that he couldn't quite snap out of it. He got invested in things then he couldn't abandon ship.

_Red in the ledger. Childish games. Compromised._ Words from their prior...conversation...popped up in her head like unwanted weeds. Because they were alike. They both _did_ have red in their ledgers. But she had something else that Loki didn't: she had Clint.

Someone who had given her a chance.

And she couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever given Loki a chance.

A real chance.

And as himself, not as something they wanted him to be.

She sighed. It was dangerous to sympathize with the villain. Because it came a bit to close to reminding her how she had toed the line to being a bad guy herself. And she needed to believe that she was doing the right thing, for her sanity. She needed the assurance that S.H.I.E.L.D. provided.

And funnily enough, she suspected that Loki needed it as well. She had been listening carefully as he ordered the congregation of rich old snobs in Germany to kneel. From what she could tell, he had been fairly obsessed with freedom being life's greatest lie, people wanting to be ruled by someone more powerful and wiser, and the world could be at peace if they just accepted that they weren't in charge of their lives. And from what she knew about psychology and emotionally unstable people and supervillains, such monologues were often times personal. _Uncomfortably_ personal.

A cry for help.

Replacing "Midgardians" with "Loki," and suddenly his little speech made a lot more sense: he had lost control of his life and just wanted to be told what to do. But he couldn't admit it and so decided to take it out on the whole planet. The planet became a projection of him, and he would conquer it-half destroying it in the process-then give it the so-called "perfection" and "stability" that was so lacking from his own life.

Well, perhaps it was a bit of a stretch. But she also suspected that it wasn't too far from the truth. There was a reason that Fury sent her on nearly all the missions profiling potential enemies, including Stark. She was rarely wrong on her assessments of human nature. And despite how much Loki claimed to be a God, claimed to be a higher being, a higher life-form, he was still vulnerable and a _person_ underneath all the fancy leather armor.

So this was her chance. She could shape Loki into a weapon for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s interest. And she could repay her debt in a way that she would never be able to Clint, because he would never need her. But Loki desperately needed _someone. _And it wasn't going to be pretty. Re-shaping someone rarely was, and unlike most, she knew how to _actually_ change someone: you just show them that they want to change themselves, then let them do it. The situation simply provided her the best opportunity. Loki was on the brink of, if not already engaged in, an internal war between good and evil, between intelligence and emotions, between chaos and normality. Whether or not he was aware of it was not Natasha problem. Her concern was making sure that the right side won. "The right side" being that the idiot stopped destroying himself and everything else around him and turned his chaos into something _useful_ to be wielded by S.H.I.E.L.D. to save others.

She saw Loki frown, then glance to where she was hiding in the shadows. _"Took you long enough_," she mouthed.

A slow smile unfolded across his face. And this was what she loved-she didn't have to explain that Tony sent her, that she was going to be on their side, even that she had motives of her own. She knew that he understood all of that, just as he would know she understood that he knew. Their implicit, unspoken agreement. It would be quite a fascinating game of mental chess that they would engage in. But Natasha also knew that she had the advantage: deep down, Loki wanted to lose.

Ironic that he would be fighting himself while having to fight himself.

* * *

A/N: So it's been absolutely fascinating to read everyone's reactions to the whole pairing question that I posed, and once again, I am honored to have such intelligent readers. You all pretty much hit the bull's eye with your observations, so I am left once again in the position of pretty much doing what you wanted because that's where this story was going in the first place. If you had pressing concerns, I addressed you personally, but otherwise, all I want to say here is I am not going to break the tone or the characters that I have already established, and Loki will be forced to do all of the..."heavy lifting" himself with getting over his issues. And, of course, everything will build nice and slowly, giving me ample time to explore everyone. For anyone who wants a straight answer: this fic has not been a romance from the start and given that there are an ample number of romances out there, I see no reason to change it now.

So, one of the really interesting dynamics that came up in this chapter is that I realized, oh. Wait. The events at the end of the Avengers didn't happen because, uh, the Chitauri didn't come through the portal. They didn't all fight Loki. So all of the team bonding and character growth and stuff...uh...suddenly didn't happen? They were ready to become a team by the scene that I branched off from, but they weren't _actually_ a team.

Oops.

WAIT THAT MEANS I GET TO PLAY WITH MAKING THEM A TEAM AS WELL AS WITH REFORMING LOKI OH GODS THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN AND YES I SPEAK IN CAPS IN MY HEAD DEAL WITH IT.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Theories? I especially love your theories. Come on, I *know* you want to psychoanalyze those characters with me! (SO MUCH FUN that all of my theories about their brains and how they think are now all relevant to the plot.) Review!


	7. Chapter 7

Walking on Sunshine

* * *

"Alright-y, welcome home."

Loki cocked an eyebrow. "You have a _mansion_ in New York City as well?"

"Father invested in real estate. It was _going_ to be a place for all the Avengers to hang out and stuff. It'll serve us well enough as a base of operations. It's also close enough to Stark Tower if we need any equipment to do any actual testing."

"You just wanted to keep a building with your name on it," he noted.

Stark shrugged. "Caught me there."

"As much as I can understand the sentiment, correct me if I am wrong, but your thinking computer still controls this house, does it not? I fail to see how this is any more safe."

Tony sighed. "Right. That. Give me a sec." He tapped a few buttons on his phone. "Jarvis, Code Overlord, Initiate Red Rum Protocol."

There was a moment of silence, then: "At once, sir. Goodbye, sir."

Every single light in the building shone for one blinding second, then the whole thing went dark, and a fizzle of blue, a distortion in the air, settled from the crown of the building straight into the ground. Eyes less observant than Loki's would not have been able to notice the sheild-like phenomenon whatsoever, but he could _taste_ the electricity in the air. "And that was?" he asked.

"First rule when creating an AI is keep a protocol to make sure it doesn't go all SkyNet on you."

Loki nodded understandingly; he could pick up from context what pop-culture would see flying over his head. "So this entire building is now protected."

"Yup. Cut off from all wireless, all television, all signals, and pretty much anything interesting. But protected."

Loki nodded again, but his eyes were far away, lost in the distance of his own thoughts. He had to come up with a way to use this to his advantage. Surely, there was some angle...but no, his mind just kept returning to the fact that it could have been _him._

"Loki?" A soft hand lay on his shoulders. Natasha. "If you don't feel safe, we could go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. bunker." Now _that_ had been an interesting argument to watch the two Avengers hash out.

Loki sighed. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't slept in a while, or maybe it was the godsawful _kindness_ that both Pepper and Natasha seemed intent on showing him. Well, Pepper, at least. Natasha's was beautifully calculated, something he could usually aesthetically appreciate. He was having a bit of a hard time remaining removed, though. Maybe it was just the fact that he was going to be expected to work with these people, or that he depended on them. Regardless, he felt just a few centuries old, almost like after his first battle, when he had first seen blood on his hands.

"You killed it," he said.

"What?"

"You killed your A.I. Your friend." _For me._

"Uh-not really," Stark babbled. "I've still got my Jarvis at the mansion, the other mansion, and my Jarvis in all my suits, and...no, Jarvis at Stark Towers has probably been erased. But they're even all connected wirelessly. So it's more like I just...extracted him."

Again, Loki let a parade of emotions flit across his gaze. Fear, anger, horror, timidness, terror, determination, sorrow, then a bone-deep weariness. "So this place is safe?" he said.

"Safe as can be."

"Then I would much desire to sleep for a few hours."

* * *

"He's completely zonked out."

"He's acting," Natasha corrected.

"No one can act that well. He's asleep." They were sitting in the central security room, observing the camera feed from the bedroom Tony directed Loki to. Tony had greatly resisted the urge to just reboot Jarvis, because he didn't like having to do things himself, but Natasha had shot down that idea, pointing out that they would lose their chance at Loki's trust.

"I'm talking about _before._"

"He seemed pretty sincere to me," Tony said.

"He was manipulating you. Don't trust him."

"I'm not stupid. But I think he was actually upset at how quickly I got rid of Jarvis from this building."

"Don't make the mistake of believing that sincerity indicates a lack of scheming," Natasha said. "You're going to have to stay on your feet with this one."

"Are you actually asking _me_ for help?" A grin split across Tony's face. This couldn't be happening. He wished he could get a recording of it or something. The historic moment, when Natasha Romanoff asked Tony Stark for-

"I'm asking you to do what you do best. Get under his skin. It might get me some answers."

"How-"

"From what I see, he's completely dropped his supervillain persona to instead play us by the pity angle. I can assure you that it would work perfectly on a certain Norse god. You've seen Loki as crazy, delusional, and power-mad. But how long do you think you'd be able to stand if he played young, vulnerable, and misguided?"

"I don't _pity_ him. I'm not Thor. He's dangerous, I get it."

Natasha sighed. "I am worried because of how you treated Bruce Banner. He was smart, but had a problem, so you decided to take him under your wing. I don't want you getting any ideas that you can do the same thing with Loki. Bruce Banner was a stable individual trying to do good for the world. Loki wants to get into your head and destroy you." She watched him very carefully, as if trying to see if her words had any affect whatsoever. Tony shifted uncomfortably, refusing to admit that she might have a point.

"I don't like him."

"But you could. You have enough in common that he-"

"Oh, for god's sake, we came here to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s paranoia." Tony stood, shoving his chair back towards the table. "Scheme all you want. I've got some experiments to design."

Natasha silently turned back to watching Loki sleep. Tony was so easy to maneuver. Two down-well, three, if she could count on Thor-which meant only two Avengers left to convince.

* * *

Clint stared at his the text message on his phone: _890 Fifth Avenue. Stark's got a building that takes up the entire block. Wireless is completely cut off, so I'll have to get out to get you any updates. I'd give it a day before they get too frustrated. Until then, I've got them contained._

He turned to Fury. "Natasha's got it contained."

The Director nodded. "And what's your take on all of this?"

Clint gathered his thoughts. "I don't like it. Not just because I don't like Loki, and I don't like how he already made it so personal. There are too many people who think that they're in control of this situation, which means that none of us are."

"But you think Natasha can pull it off?"

"I think we'd all be safest in the short term with him dead. But I'm a soldier. You're the one who's going to worry about how Asgard will react."

Fury sighed. "This 'Asgard' is causing us enough trouble already over the fact that we haven't turned Loki over immediately. They certainly do not know the...full extent of the situation. But I'm not sure they had any more handle on the _one_ Loki than we did."

"This way is best," Clint said suddenly.

"Hm?"

"If it's being treated as a rogue mission, taken on by the Avengers. Means we won't have to fill out any paperwork. Less people to answer to."

Fury laughed. "Well, god forbid Loki cover us in paperwork."

"I wouldn't put it past him, sir."

"What should we watch out for?" Fury asked. "Any insight? You're my eyes here."

"Loki nearly forged us into a team. He was a common enemy. Now he's something we could all fight over. Something that could wedge us apart," Clint said. "If he wants us to turn on each other, then more likely than not, we'll turn on one another. But he hasn't seen us fighting _as_ a team. He might be underestimating us. Or we might be overestimating ourselves."

"Anything you can tell us about his head?"

"He doesn't know what he wants. Not really. And it's likely to get more people killed." Clint flipped his cell phone closed and tucked it in his pocket. "This is Natasha's project."

"Hmph. Either way, you're going to be invaluable. You and Selvig were the two who were under Loki's control."

Clint's eyes flashed. "Where's Selvig?"

"Recover Room B36. We've got him monitored."

Clint let out an unsteady breath. "Don't think it's under control."

"Oh, I know all too well. But I've got a goddamn Council to convince that it _is_ all under control."

* * *

Bruce Banner slouched, his thumbs twiddling nervously, as he glanced around his small room again. He should probably be packing. The Tesseract was gone, and so S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't need him anymore. He remembered vaguely something about Tony saying something about Stark Tower R&D floors. But that was before he lost his temper. Before he nearly killed his teammates and tore S.H.I.E.L.D. out of the air. He hadn't heard anything from Tony about moving in again. Then again, he hadn't heard anything from S.H.I.E.L.D. about being allowed to stay. He just assumed.

A click of heels sounded down the hallway outside, and he pushed his nervousness away. He could at least talk to _someone_, maybe get a handle of what was going on.

Stepping out of his doorway, he nearly ran into Pepper Pots.

"Um, hello," he said as her eyes flitted past him as if looking for an escape route and her hands smoothed non-existant wrinkles out of her pencil skirt.

"Bruce! I, uh-" She fell silent and glanced aside one more time.

"I was wondering-" "Tony said-"

They both stopped talking at the same time, then Pepper laughed nervously. "You first."

He was wishing that he could step back into his room, though. Her fear twisted straight into his gut like a cold knife. Was he really such a monster? "I...I was wondering where Tony was."

"He's at his mansion. He's really sort of...busy...right now. And you..."

"Because I wanted to talk to him," Bruce blurted. "About the opening. With research and development. Because I would, you know. Like to work. Help people. If he..."

"Oh! I am so sorry! I was under the impression that Tony asked you and you said no!" Pepper laughed, and her whole demeanor changed. "He and Natasha actually wanted your help. I think."

"Well, that would actually be really great. I'd like something useful to do."

Pepper glanced at her purse but for some reason didn't take out her phone. "Well. It's complicated. If Tony didn't tell you..."

"Please." Some of the desperation must have made its way into his voice, because he saw a flash of pity in her eyes. "I don't belong here. I just want to help."

"They're..." She took a deep breath. "They're-testing-Loki-to-figure-out-his-weakness-to-help-him-defeat-himself."

Bruce winced. "What?"

"They're helping Loki." She looked as if she wanted to scream and run or at least flinch away, but made no move to do either. Bruce was grateful. He had a cap on his anger. Control.

"Why don't you tell me this story from the beginning."

And Pepper, still looking extremely uncomfortable, began to explain.

* * *

"Hey."

Loki glanced up to see the mortal who usually wore the flying metal suit looming over him. As of now, said mortal was wearing some black T-shirt and Midgardian pants. It did not matter; he had interrupted Loki's sleep. The grumpy god resisted the urge to swat the idiot out a window. Somehow, he didn't think defenestration would go over too well.

He bit back a groan and stretched instead, doing a mental scan of his body. Plenty of aches and pains, a few bruises that had started healing, and-

_only five hours of sleep?_

"What is the meaning of this Stark," he grumbled in monotone. _Fifty_ hours would have been the minimum acceptable to recover from everything. Considering that he had barely slept at all in a year-

"You had your nap! Come on, lazy kitty cat, get up."

Loki _growled_ at him and rolled over.

"We can go get food!"

At the mention of food, his head perked up. He hadn't _eaten_ in well over a year as well; he didn't really _need_ too, and the Chitauri had no offerings fit for his palate. Not that Midgard would be able to live up to his expectations as well. But it was a fairly interesting notion.

"Come on, surely you're a bit hungry."

Loki shook his head. "We have better things to be doing. I'm trying to concentrate on not dying. I can tolerate your frivolity as long as it is channeled into something useful. And despite the temporary pleasure that food might provide, it does not serve my goals. Gods forbid I _encourage_ you."

"You're cranky."

"You woke me up."

"You want to know a secret?"

"Not particularly."

"Not-dying is sort of useless if you're not going to be living."

That one gave Loki pause. "What do you know about death?"

"We're _mortals_, remember? It kind of looms over everything we do." Tony glanced down. "Most of the time we just pretend we're immortal. But I had a...a bit of a crisis. My suit was...poisoning me. It would be like is your sorcery drained your life force, but you still had to-"

"It does."

"What?"

"Sorcery does drain life-force. The same way that running makes you tired and hungry. As an immortal, the life-force regenerates with rest and patience. As a superior being, I have access to far more power in the first place, and the physiology to withstand it. The reason why you mortals don't have sorcery is that it takes far more energy than you can regenerate, so it would take your life." Loki scowled. "I do hope you are taking notes. If...if _he_ decides to possess any mortal's body and uses magic, the body will be drained dry quite quickly."

"Way to change the subject. Come on. Get up. You could use some outside air. And food _will_ help you recover your energy, right? We eat after we run. So it would be useful."

Food _would_ give him a temporary boost to his energy, although it was far less thorough or enjoyable than sleep. But it _was_ quicker, and time _was_ of essence here. And besides, ever since Stark mentioned food, his hunger had been gnawing on the back of his mind. Annoying enough to keep him from full concentration. The easiest solution now would be to concede and go eat something.

"What do you have in mind?"

Stark's eyes lit up. "I am going to introduce you to a whole _rainbow_ of Earth food."

* * *

"We need to tell Clint and Steve."

"Tell me what?" Steve was holding his bag of hand-wraps, water, and other exercise paraphernalia. His hair was damp from the shower. It had been easy, if not a bit disconcerting, to fall back into his usual routine of gym, eat, and sleep. No one usually bothered him, but there were Pepper and Bruce, standing in front of the gym door. He frowned. "Is there another mission?"

"I really think-" Pepper began.

"Loki is in danger, and we're working to protect both him and the world from him," Bruce said.

"Loki is locked down," Steve replied. Concrete and lead that would block magic and they had been guarding the basement containment room. There was no way that Loki could have escaped.

"Tony-"

And that was all Captain America needed to hear. "Is there anything that he _doesn't_ try to- oh, the-" He took a deep breath. "Who knows?"

"Natasha is with them. It's a mixture of Loki seeking sanctuary and them using his knowledge. Enemy-of-my-enemy type alliance. I...found out by accident."

Steve closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He liked it when life was simple, when there was one clearly Right Thing To Do, and he could simply do it. "So the Avengers are all taking on Loki as our next project?"

"In more ways than one," Pepper cut in. "There are two Lokis. One is flat-out evil and trying to take over our Loki's head."

"And our Loki is only slightly evil and in need of protection," Steve said for clarification. He couldn't _believe_ this.

"He's really not that bad when you get to know him. When he wants to be polite, I guess. I've been talking with him for most of the day, and he seems perfectly reasonable."

Steve sighed. "The body count is over one hundred now. Deaths that are Loki's fault."

"From what Pepper has told me, this other Loki has well over three billion deaths on his head," Bruce said. "And those were just humans. We don't know how much he messed with the rest of the universe as well."

"I'll go. I don't agree with you, but I'll go." Sacrifice and compromise, that was what teamwork was about, right?

Bruce flashed him a smile. "Thank you. It means a lot."

* * *

_Going out for food. Might be a nice time to initiate Phase Two._

Clint glanced at his message screen, then quickly keyed in a reply. _The rest of the Avengers may be hot on your tail. They want to help. It might get complicated._

He could imagine the spy swearing in Russian. Her response popped into the window nigh-instantaneaously. _Then we're going to have to act even faster._

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to all the reviewers, people who favorited, people who alerted, and people who read. It's an honor, and I'm really glad you're having fun with this. I certainly am.

This is turning out a lot harder than I thought because I refuse to be fluffy and everyone else refuses to cooperate. So I might be slightly slow? But meh, I'd prefer to be slow and well thought-out to speed updates that leave you wanting.

Let's see, one of the things that I'm having fun playing with is the "nobody-is-all-powerful" dynamic. I've read too many stories where one character, be it Loki or Tony or Steve or Natasha or really anyone, is pulling all the strings. The whole fun here is that _everyone_ thinks they're pulling all the strings, which as Clint so kindly pointed out, means it won't really go in anyone's direction. Kind of like trying to forge the Avengers into a team for the two thirds of the movie that they all spent fighting one another...

I do realize that I've got a few spelling mistakes and what-not. I do have my fair share of excuses as well: 1, I'm horrible at editing and even more horrible at spelling, so despite the fact that I go over them I will inevitable miss a few things. 2, No, I do not have a beta reader. 3, I'm doing this for Camp NaNoWriMo amongst other things, which means I am producing 1667 words a day to meet a fiction quota, which means that I'm generally working faster than I have come to expect from beta collaborations. I'm also a rather picky writer in that I do not mind people editing my spelling and grammar, but I do not have the time to hash it out about my storytelling style or character choices. If anyone vastly wants to beta for spelling and will keep up with the breakneck pace, I'm chill.

Also, on updates-I am going to be traveling soon, then the moment that the June 20's hit, I pretty much get sucked into a bottomless vortex of summer adventures that may or may not spit me out with enough time to write. So just warning you. Expect literally nothing for the entire month of July (I won't have a computer at all, let alone Internet connection, let alone even time to sleep), but I'll try to keep writing until then. And when August comes back, I, and therefore this story, ought to come back with it.


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